


The Red Hairpin Murders

by tfa2141



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Case Fic, POV Alternating, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6767539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfa2141/pseuds/tfa2141
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a 26-year old woman is found brutally murdered in her home, the only clue Chloe Decker and the LAPD can find is a red hairpin placed neatly in the victim's hands. As the murderer strikes again, Chloe and Lucifer find themselves caught in the middle of a police force deeply intertwined with corruption - and a killer who leaves no trace.</p><p>Post-season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The rain tapped softly on the car windows as the young woman returned home for the evening. Her street was quiet, as it always was- the idyllic suburban road, punctuated by the silence of a rainy summer’s night. The warm glow of the porch light reflected in the wet pavement, the street shining with every new ripple that passed over its surface. Sweeping her blonde hair back away from her face, she fumbled with her set of keys trying to find the one that fit the front door. With a jangle and a muttered curse, the keys fell onto the entry mat, stalling the process momentarily.

She wouldn’t have noticed the small red hairpin that sat neatly in the middle of the doormat if it hadn’t been for her unsteady hand.

I had placed it cleverly that way.

It shone brightly in the dim glow, innocent on the pavement like a line of new lamb’s blood. Something in its simplicity, in its clearly stated scarlet features captivated her and she began to turn it over in her hands as if investigating its appearance here on her front porch. Regaining her focus and stowing it away in her pocket, she located the correct key and turned it in the lock with a satisfying click.

She didn’t notice as I crept up alongside the house, footsteps blending with the increased frequency of the raindrops on the roof over her head; didn’t have time to react as the needle found its place next to the birthmark on her neck.

There would be no scuffle tonight.

The street was quiet once again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Victim is 26-year old Brooke Suarez. Resident of Los Angeles and recent UCLA grad. Lived alone and rented this place herself. Mailman noticed the scene when he came to drop off the morning post and found the door ajar. No other witnesses have stepped forward, but we have a patrolman questioning all the immediate neighbors to see if they noticed anything.”

Detective Chloe Decker took a step back from the scene, letting the crime scene photographers continue their work for the moment. She turned to the responding patrolman who had briefed her on the details. “Any signs of forced entry?”

“No, ma’am. We found a set of keys on the kitchen counter, though. The one belonging to the front door is still on the ring. Techs bagged it and are sending it to be checked for prints.”

Chloe nodded and circled the body once more, changing angles to make sure there was nothing she had missed.

It was all very precise. The girl was laid out in the center of the floor, blonde hair splayed out around her head like a terrible halo. Her hands were placed palms down, together on her chest, as if she should be carrying a bridal bouquet instead of the far worse fate she had suffered. The killer had made a single incision directly across the jugular veins which would have caused the poor girl to bleed out in minutes. There were no signs of a struggle- no defensive wounds, ligature marks, cuts, abrasions, skin under the fingernails, or anything else that would indicate that she fought back or was held down in any way.

Chloe brushed the girl’s hair out of her face with a gloved hand, revealing the ends of the gruesome cut mark that marred her otherwise beautiful features. Turning the head from left to right, she observed that the cut was slightly shorter on the right side, indicating that the killer was probably right-handed. Noticing a small shadow on the victim’s neck, Chloe signaled a technician who came over with a flashlight and shined it on the area. A small brown birthmark fell just lower than the girl’s jaw, and appeared to have a small red puncture mark just to the left of it.

“Make sure you take a sample for a tox screen. Looks like she was injected with some type of substance. Maybe a sedative, given the lack of defensive wounds for this kind of injury.”

The tech nodded and scurried off to go find the necessary supplies, and Chloe was surprised when he returned less than a minute later, crouching down at the victim’s level next to her. “That was fast,” she remarked.

“On the contrary, Detective, I believe I am approximately ten minutes late,” replied the lilting accent of her partner. “You’ll have to excuse me, I absolutely could not find the suit jacket I was looking for this morning, so I had to change the whole ensemble.”

The detective rolled her eyes, regarding Lucifer’s sharply tailored dress suit with mock annoyance. “Must be hard when you practically sleep in the kind of expensive menswear that makes my wallet want to eat itself.”

Lucifer grinned. “I’m sure I could arrange a shopping trip for you as well, Detective, if that was something you wanted.” With a glance, he added, “I’m sure red would be a lovely color on you.”

She tried to swat at him, but he was prepared and danced out of the way with a mischievous grin. With the change in position however, he suddenly noticed a shine near the victim’s palms. Cocking his head to the side, he tapped Chloe lightly on the shoulder and pointed at the spot. “Perhaps it’s merely a trick of the light, but I’m not exactly sure what kind of thing shines in a shade of scarlet.”

Lightly taking one of the girl’s hands and lifting it, the detective noticed a small red hairpin displayed neatly beneath her other hand, a detail easily overlooked had one not been down near eye level with it. Picking up the pin, she deposited it in an evidence bag and handed it off to the patrolman standing by. “Test this for DNA, prints, anything you can find. This didn’t end up here on accident.” Turning to Lucifer, she playfully hit him on the shoulder. “Maybe you’re not so bad at this cop thing after all.”


	3. Chapter 3

The results were not what they were hoping for.

The only witness wasn’t able to give them any leads, and none of the neighbors had any information to offer either. Back in the lab, the toxicology screens came back negative for any kind of foreign substance, sedative or otherwise, and they weren’t able to collect any prints off of anything other than those from the victim herself. The medical examiner couldn’t find anything else out of place with the body than the untraceable puncture mark.

In short, they had an untraceable killer and no idea where to start looking. And the trail was growing colder by the minute.

“Has this ever happened to you before, Detective?” Lucifer had taken a seat at her desk and was absentmindedly playing with her pencil cup while pushing the chair in circles with his foot. Chloe was firmly focused on the board, looking at the information they currently had about the murder. So far, none of the pieces seemed to fit together in any way that would help them narrow down the population of Los Angeles to the right person.

“No, it hasn’t,” she sighed. “It’s frustrating. I’ve seen murders like this before, but they’re not usually this clean. They tend to leave… something behind that helps us build a lead, a profile, anything. Especially for something like this.” She turned to face her partner, who had resorted now to disassembling and inspecting the contents of several pens. Walking over to her desk, she leaned against the corner and crossed her arms in contemplation. “I don’t think this was random. The killer either had entrance to her house or knew how to get in without force. They left no tracks, which is very uncommon, and they took the time to leave us a token that doesn’t seem to fit with the pattern of the murder at all. The murder was surgically precise, a single straight cut to a major vein that they knew would be fatal. And just the way the body was laid out, it was…”

“Arranged,” Lucifer finished. “Deliberately placed in that position.”

“Exactly. There were no defensive wounds and she wasn’t taken advantage of in any way. So what could he get from killing this girl?”

Her train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the wall of her cubicle, and a patrolman poked his head around the corner. “Excuse me, Detective? Monroe needs to see you in her office as soon as possible.”

She nodded and motioned to Lucifer, who quickly snapped the cap back on the pen he was toying with and sprang out of the chair to follow her. As the pair rounded the corner to the captain’s office, Chloe could tell that something was wrong immediately by the look on her face. Entering the small room, the detective moved to take a seat but was quickly waved off by her supervisor’s hand.

“That won’t be necessary, Detective Decker, Mr. Morningstar. It’s regarding the Suarez case from several weeks ago.”

Lucifer exchanged a quick glance with Chloe, his brow furrowed in concern.

Monroe sighed and leaned back in her chair, bracing her forehead upright with her arm. “I got a call this morning. They’ve found another victim.”


	4. Chapter 4

This one was a bit more complicated than the first.

She was nervous and apprehensive as she returned home from the night, looking around for me in the shadows. Of course she didn’t know what to look for- the police department had failed at its job yet again. But she knew I was out there somewhere.

She pulled the blue beach cruiser up alongside the house, and fumbled a bit with the keypad as she tried to open her garage door. Poor thing. She was unaware of the slight crunch of the gravel under my feet as I crossed her front lawn, approaching from the back side of her house where she kept the garbage cans. I moved to prepare the syringe, the familiar adrenaline rush kicking in.

She startled at the loud mechanical clank of the garage door kicking into motion, turning abruptly to face where I was standing next to the archway that framed her front door.

It was more fun when they caught me.

When their breaths caught in their throat and they had the realization that they were going to die.

She tried to run but the chase ended quickly, of course- it always did. As I moved to slip the needle into its home, she fought at me desperately, trying to stall the inevitable fate she would meet.

I scratched her with the point as I avoided her blows, leaving a red trail leading up to the eventual puncture mark. _Sloppy. The good Detective will certainly notice this._ When the sedative had finally taken effect, I carried her into the home and shut the door tightly. We couldn’t avoid another mistake like last time.

My friends in the police department had told me that.

When the sirens began to scream down the street, I was already safely out of sight, my work finished. It had been messier than the last but still untraceable. I prided myself on leaving only the clues that could not be traced to me.

Whistling to keep myself company, I continued down the back alley, shadows accepting me as one of their own and shielding me as the clouds began to shed their tears once more.

 _I'm singin' in the rain_  
Just singin' in the rain  
_What a glorious feelin'_  
 _I'm happy again._


	5. Chapter 5

Chloe felt like she was stepping back in time when she arrived on the second scene. The house was nearly identical, the victim a blonde-haired girl of about 27 roughly the same height as the last. The body was positioned in exactly the same way with the same single fatal wound directly across the throat. And of course, a red hairpin was placed neatly under the victim’s palms folded over her chest.

The detective sighed. The killer clearly had an established profile for his victims, one that she was uncomfortably a match for.

“In these kinds of situations, a killer targets a victim mainly for their profile. They’re trying to avenge some previous wrong they’ve been done by going after people that look like the wrongdoer. Like an extreme form of retaliation,” Chloe started. “Only problem is, we have no idea who the wronged person is at the moment.”

At eye level, she could see a few small drops of blood a few feet away from the body, out of place as compared to the rest of the scene. At this point, any clue would be helpful. “Can I get some luminol and a UV light over here?” she said, gesturing at the spot.

A tech scrambled over with the forensic kit and began to spray the luminol on the floor next to the blood droplets. A patrolman set about pulling the shades and covering the windows as best as he could. As the black light began to illuminate the area, the detective could see a small trail leading to the back door. “Maybe our killer wasn’t as smart as we thought. He just knew how to leave hard-to-trace clues.”

At a crawl, the forensic technicians, patrolmen, Chloe, and Lucifer began to slowly follow the trail towards the side door. Once they passed the threshold, however, the trail ended abruptly. Chloe shook her head. “We can’t trace it on the rocks out here. Look for anything that could have been left behind that someone was here,” she ordered. The rest of the officers fanned out, canvassing the backyard for any signs of the perpetrator. A patrolman quickly alerted the team that there was a partial tire track in the mud near the rear gate of the house.

“The victim doesn’t have a car, and this looks like it’s from a decent-sized vehicle,” Chloe stated. “This has to be from our killer. The track is fresh enough that it hasn’t been washed away by the mud yet.” Disappointingly, there probably wasn’t enough of the tread left to get a full match on the make and model of the tire, but it would be good for cross-referencing any future clues. Signaling to the photographer, the officers headed back into the house feeling slightly more confident given the recent discovery.

“Well done, Detective,” Lucifer remarked. “It’s almost as if you do this for a living.”

The ensuing eye roll from her was as dramatic as ever.


	6. Chapter 6

Chloe sighed, tossing the morning paper across the table at Lucifer, who was returning with two cups of coffee. “This doesn’t paint a good picture of the department. It’s the second murder in a little over a month, so I guess they have a right to give this one a name. They’re calling him the Hairpin Killer.”

The Devil chuckled at the headline. “Hardly a creative name bestowed upon him. Although I can’t say he’s earned one, very unoriginal premise – killing unsuspecting attractive women in the dead of night. Although might I add none of them hold a candle to you, Detective.”

Chloe sighed. “You know, I would have taken that as a compliment if I didn’t know that it’s just a piece in your big plan to sleep with me.”

Lucifer grinned, but taking a seat across from her, he could tell even her sarcastic quip had less strength than it usually did. It would be an understatement to say that the detective was stressed out. The department had assigned her police protection for the time being, since she matched the profile of both of the killer’s victims so far and was heavily involved in the investigation. This meant a squad car and therefore reporters outside of her house nearly 24/7, all clamoring for any information about the case.

She must have looked more concerned than she felt, because her partner quietly interjected. “Haven’t been sleeping well?”

She shook her head sadly. “I just can’t help but put myself in their situations. I mean, I want to get to the bottom of this so badly, to get justice for them.”

“And you will,” Lucifer replied. “I know you.” He smiled, warm and sincere and she managed one of her own back.

Taking a sip of her coffee, Chloe grimaced at the bitter taste. Her partner noticed.

“No sugar?”

She nodded, and he whisked the cup away to where the cream and sugar sat at the front counter. No sooner had he gotten up from his chair than the detective’s phone began to vibrate aggressively against the wooden tabletop. “Decker.”

Information began to pour in urgently from dispatch. Rising from the table, she grabbed her jacket from where it hung on the back of the chair and motioned at Lucifer to hurry up. With an exasperated eye roll, he plucked two packets of sugar from the caddy and briskly followed her out the doors.

_Unnamed female, escaped attack by man matching a possible profile for the active unsub. Minor injuries sustained, medical personnel en route to the location. Multiple witnesses with information. Report as soon as possible._


	7. Chapter 7

The girl’s name was Allison Lowell, and by all accounts she was lucky to be alive.

When Chloe and Lucifer arrived, she was sitting on the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket and shaking violently despite the warm Los Angeles morning. Patrolmen were standing off to the side, interviewing several neighbors that had apparently witnessed the scene. Allison waved off the medics with a dismissive ‘thank you’. Her hands were bandaged and she had several bruises on her upper arms along with a scraped right knee.

The detective took her cup of coffee, untouched from the recent refill, and handed it to the girl who accepted it with trembling hands. “I don’t know if you drink coffee, but if anything it’s warm. Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head. “Thank you,” she managed weakly.

Chloe smiled at her. “If you feel up to it, would you mind telling me a little bit about what happened?”

Allison sighed, then shuddered once more as she recalled the events for the Detective. “I was coming home from working late at the diner. I’ve been doing the night shift there for a few months now, ever since I moved into my own place here. I usually have my coworker Ryan drop me off, but I was closing so he left early.” She turned the coffee cup in her hands, trying to put her thoughts together.

“I don’t know what it was, but something was making me really jumpy. I was getting scared of my own shadow and looking over my shoulder constantly. When I got home, I saw this red pin on the mat by the front door.” Allison shook her head. “I’ve read the papers, and I knew that I fit the type with those other two girls. So I ran down the street screaming that I needed help. And that’s when he attacked me from behind. It was so dark I could hardly see anything, but he was at least a few inches taller than me and much stronger. He tried to pin me down in the road and get me to stop yelling. I wasn’t going to let him kill me. I just kept swinging, trying to land a punch anywhere that might help me get away. And that’s when Joe came out with his shotgun and scared him off. He got a better look at him than I did. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know if I would be alive.”

The detective nodded and handed her a card with a phone number printed neatly on the front. “Thank you, Allison. If you remember anything else don’t hesitate to call me.” With a smile, Chloe stepped away and rejoined Lucifer at the car.

“You look wholly disappointed, Detective.”

Chloe sighed. “She was so busy fighting this guy off she didn’t get a good look at anything that would be helpful to us narrowing down a suspect.” Gesturing over at the old man being interviewed in the driveway, she continued. “She says her neighbor scared him away. I think he’s worth talking to.”

“No need, Detectives.” The officer that had been taking a statement from the older gentleman approached them carrying a notebook in hand. “The neighbor Joe Higgins says he saw the attacker get into an old blue Dodge pickup truck and drive off. Got a partial license plate for us. Last four digits are W406.”

“Okay, great. Thanks.” Chloe looked at Lucifer who was grinning from ear to ear. “What are you so excited about?”

“Well, Detective, we have our first real lead. Which means we’re closer to finding the piece of human garbage who did these terrible things.”

She shook her head and got into the black police cruiser. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do. Which starts by getting this to the station as fast as we can,” she remarked. Her partner smiled and hopped into the passenger seat.

“If speed’s what we’re concerned with, perhaps you should let me drive then. You tend to go at least five miles an hour _under_ the speed limit, Grandma.”

Chloe put the car into gear and pulled smoothly out of the driveway. “I’d prefer not to get a speeding ticket in a police-issued vehicle, thanks.”

Lucifer raised his hands in resignation. “Suit yourself.” He paused a beat before adding a dash of his characteristic brand of sarcasm. “Hopefully you didn’t make dinner plans because it’s going to take us all night to get there.”

Chloe thought about locking up the brakes to see if it would shut him up.


	8. Chapter 8

Several hours later, the station had a match for the license plate. There were three in the immediate Los Angeles area that matched Joe Higgins’ description of the vehicle with the plate number. Chloe picked the list up off of the corner of her desk and scanned it over.

“Are we car shopping then, Detective?” He whistled. “Quite a short list if I do say so myself.”

The detective rolled her eyes. “We’re trying to track the partial plate the neighbor gave us to any cars local to the areas around where the crimes were committed. From there…”

“Ah, I see,” Lucifer interrupted. “From there we look at the owners and see if any of them have any dirty secrets worth knowing about.”

“Obviously not everything I say goes in one ear and out the other,” Chloe retorted.

 

 _1970 Dodge D200, Bermuda Turquoise_ , _Plate 2NEW406 - Registered to Jackson Baker_

_1993 Dodge Dakota, Banzai Blue Metallic, Plate 3DEW406 – Registered to Steven Kelley_

_2008 Dodge Ram, Deep Blue Pearl, Plate 2LXW406 – Registered to Ryan Gordon_

She took a pen and crossed off the last option with a thick dark line. Lucifer looked puzzled. “Now what was that for?”

“Our witness described it as an old pickup truck. The last one is too new for that and has a very different body style than the other two models.”

“So should we pay these other two miscreants a visit then?” he suggested.

“It would be dangerous to go without enough backup. We have to assume one of them is our guy, and he’s not exactly friendly from the looks of it. Besides, we should try to catch him by surprise. He’ll still be laying low for another day at least, probably waiting for us to make a move.” She looked at her watch and sighed. “In fact, I should probably get going. I have to pick Trixie up from school at 4, and she gets nervous if I’m not there on time.”

The two paced over to the elevator and took it down the three floors to the parking garage. Lucifer let her out with a slight bow and wave of his arm, and they stepped out into the dim lighting of the underground structure. Their footsteps were the only noises, echoing off the concrete and giving an eerie loneliness to the garage.

When they reached Chloe’s vehicle, Lucifer pulled the door open with a flourish and a handsome smile. “After you, then.”

Chloe squinted her eyes. “You’re not coming with me. You know that, right?”

Her partner pouted. “I thought we were partners, Detective. The whole ‘wherever you go, I go’ kind of deal?”

“Lucifer, I’m just getting Trixie from school. Besides, if you show up she’s never going to let you leave.”

“And that would be a bad thing because?” He smiled wickedly, hoping for once his charms would win her over. He was, predictably, disappointed.

“Just go home. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

He nodded, trying to hide his obvious displeasure, and shut the car door carefully. In another moment she was driving slowly away, the black cruiser growing smaller against the horizon by the second. Lucifer scuffed his feet on the ground and with a huff turned his attention skyward.

“This is the one you stick me with, Dad?”


	9. Chapter 9

Chloe sat in the parking lot at Trixie’s school, watching the flurry of kids pour out from their last class of the day, a stream of brightly colored backpacks filling the parent pick-up line. She picked up the vehicle list on the notepad in the passenger seat and checked it over again, verifying the addresses she had scrawled next to the owners’ names. Several manila folders lay on the dashboard, profiles to match the identities she held in her hand.

Neither appeared to be very pleasant people.

Jackson Baker had been convicted several years earlier of breaking and entering and aggravated assault, but had been a clean-sheet parolee for the last two with no major blemishes since. According to his profile, he now worked at a small independently owned coffee shop not far from the precinct downtown.

The second match, Steven Kelley, was a different problem altogether. Kelley had been a model citizen and a prominent doctor but was admitted to rehab several years ago for abuse and alcohol problems, which caused him to be dismissed from his practice and leading to several accounts of domestic violence and assault.

They were just bullet points on a list, granted; but even after years of experience in homicide she still couldn’t imagine a typical person committing such a grisly crime.

She leaned back in the seat, mind still trying to piece together everything they knew about their unsub. She scanned the crowd of parents greeting their children, wondering what dark secrets even they hid.

As the line of cars began to pull away from the front of the school, Chloe studied the tire tracks marring the asphalt surface of the parking lot, no doubt from some teenagers competing to make the longest skid at the end of a late night drive.

_Tire treads…_

She was startled by the car door opening. “Hey Mommy.”

“Hey Trixie, how was school?”

 

 

 

“Okay, monkey. The sitter should be here in about ten minutes and then I’m going to leave for a bit. Is all your homework done?”

Trixie stopped spinning the kitchen chair to stare at the detective. “But Mommy, I thought you said we were going to have movie night.”

Chloe couldn’t hide the fact that her heart dropped a bit at missing out on some bonding time with her daughter. Swallowing the growing lump in her throat, she bent down to Trixie’s level. “I know, babe. But something came up at work that mommy really has to take care of. It’s very important.”

“You used to fight with Dad when he said that.”

That one stung. Trixie was growing up and becoming more aware of everything. Sooner or later she would start to realize the reason her family wasn’t like everyone else’s – or at least the typical family that was taught from an early age.

“Come here, monkey.” She pulled her daughter over to the couch and sat down with her. “Listen, Trix. There’s a bad man out there who is hurting a lot of people, and Mommy is doing everything she can to stop him. But right now I need to make sure that we put the bad man where he can’t hurt anyone ever again, okay?”

Trixie nodded, a mischevious smile creeping across her face.

The detective narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “What, babe?”

“Does that mean you get to work with Lucifer more?”

Chloe searched for the right words to explain the arrangement to Trixie, but was saved by the doorbell announcing the sitter’s arrival. She opened the door and let in the thoroughly unimpressed-looking teenage girl, throwing out the instructions she undoubtedly had memorized by now. It really was a shame that she wasn’t home more often, but being a single working mother was never going to be an easy job.

She texted Lucifer before heading off to her destination.

_Heading over to take another look at something at an old scene. I’ll text you if I find anything._

It had been all of thirty seconds when her phone buzzed out a response.

_Very well. Do be careful, Detective._

She couldn’t deny that it was comforting to know that Lucifer well and truly had her back. It had been a while since she found someone she could trust the same way she did him.

With that, she started up the old Ford, its familiar roar echoing through her now quiet neighborhood, and let the headlights guide her way into the approaching dusk over Los Angeles.

She came to a stop at the end of the street, switching on the display of her vehicle’s navigation system to verify the address where she was headed. The white LCD screen sent a searing glow through the now mostly dark car, earning a hiss from the detective who shielded her eyes. As the display gradually dimmed, she thumbed through the buttons, confirming her route, and began the drive to the city limits.

She didn’t notice the red hairpin sitting idly in the passenger seat, a quiet omen of what was to come.


	10. Chapter 10

Lucifer tapped out a rhythm of a knock on the Detective’s door at 7:45 sharp the next morning, as he always did, and was greeted by a bleary-eyed Trixie, who promptly flung herself at him.

“Very well then child, that will suffice,” he muttered as he shook her off gently. “Is your mother ready to go, then?

Trixie stared at him, her groggy eyes just beginning to register the light of the morning. “She didn’t go to work with you?”

The Devil felt his heart drop into his stomach. “Oh, no.” He stooped to Trixie’s level. “Beatrice, you need to tell me exactly what you remember about your mother leaving last night. Did she come home at all in the middle of the night?”

Trixie shook her head. “She usually comes to wake me for school but she didn’t this morning. I thought that meant Dad was coming to get me.”

Lucifer sighed, trying to hide his growing rage. He patted the child on the shoulders and proceeded to walk into the next room, out of earshot, hastily dialing a number in his phone.

"World's Most Thoroughly Bored Demon."

“Mazikeen, we have a problem.”

Within minutes, Maze appeared on the doorstep, trying and failing to control her own building aggression. “What do we do with the kid, then?”

Trixie looked up at her new friend, clearly unaware of the gravity of the situation at hand. “Are you here to watch me?”

Lucifer chuckled before turning more serious. “Watch out for Beatrice, Maze. I don’t care how you do that or where you take her, but make sure she is somewhere _safe_. I don’t need more than one Decker lost on the streets of Los Angeles today.”

Maze nodded and led Trixie inside as her master stormed past, eyes red with rage. He sped away in his black Corvette, fire building with every minute he spent thinking about the Detective’s disappearance. It seemed like he had made it to Lux in thirty seconds flat, and perhaps he had – he didn’t quite remember the drive over and the Devil didn’t exactly pay attention to the speed limit. He tossed his keys to the valet who knew better than to question him, and stormed inside, shutting the door with a bang.

He took a deep breath in as the elevator took him to the penthouse and realized he’d been holding his breath for longer than he could remember. As the door slid open, he strode with some semblance of control to the back of the room where the bar asserted its place in his living quarters. As the elevator descended with a final ringing tone, Lucifer’s rage finally boiled over and exploded like a fireball.

He hadn’t realized he was holding a glass of whiskey until it shattered into a thousand pieces under his grip, and he flung what was left of the bottom at the wall. With a final anguished cry, he brought his fist down on the black marble countertop and watched it crack, splintering like wood.

Though unable to feel pain in the act, the simple process of destruction was a relief to his anger, and he ran his fingers cautiously over the ruined marble with a sigh. Pouring himself another glass of whiskey, he took his usual seat at the countertop as the elevator dinged once more.

His heart jumped in his chest as he recalled the various times the Detective had stepped out of those very doors to pay him a visit. When Maze and Trixie emerged from them, he couldn’t hide his disappointment. The pair surveyed the damage he had caused and Lucifer excused himself to his balcony to avoid any further prying questions from the child. Shutting the glass doors quietly behind him, he looked skyward as he always did when searching for a place to direct his anger.

“I know you can hear me up there, you old bastard. So tell me – what have I done to deserve it this time? Better yet, tell me, what has she done to deserve this?” He waited a moment for the answer that never came. Shaking his head in contempt, he rolled the last sips of whiskey in the bottom of the glass and downed them, hoping to relieve the hurt that was welling like a red hot metal ball in the back of his throat.

“I love to be the bearer of bad news, but the answer is that she hasn’t done anything to deserve this. She offered understanding instead of judgment; saw the good where everyone else only saw darkness. She made me believe in redemption for even the worst of sinners, and you went and repaid her in kind with this despicable fate.”

He took a step back from the balcony as he contemplated throwing this glass over the edge as well. His eyes once more blazed with the flames of Hell, all fire and brimstone and pure unbridled anger.

“But who am I to argue with the man who calls himself God?” he spat.

Leaning over the edge once more, he felt Maze come up behind him and place a hand on the small of his back.

“Lucifer,” she whispered gently. “I love destruction and contemptuous yelling at your father as much as the next guy. But even I know it’s not going to help you find her.”

Lucifer softened, the brown returning to his eyes where the scarlet had been. Turning to face her, he realized that she was gone, the open glass door the only indicator that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. All that was left was the sound of breathing and the racing of his own heart, demanding to be heard and beating a steady rhythm.

As if in sympathy with his cause, the skies darkened overhead and threatened to let loose again. The wind increased gradually, and only then did he realize how long he had been standing there at the balcony edge. He picked up his glass from the small table by the ledge and returned inside with a deep breath to steady his racing pulse. As it slowed, he found it kept time with his own thoughts, a steady one-two beat.

_Find her._

_Find her._

_Find her._


	11. Chapter 11

Chloe came to, vision blurring for a moment before clearing enough for her to see the scene in front of her. She was seated in a chair in the middle of what looked like a hospital room, generally sterile and unremarkable in its features. Craning her head, she tried to peer out the tiny strip windows in the door, but found only a darkened hallway outside.

“Shit.” She tried to move but found her arms were tightly bound behind her, the thick rope tied around the thin bars that supported the chair’s backrest. She couldn’t quite remember how she got here, only that her head was throbbing and that the room’s heavy smell of rubbing alcohol made her sick to her stomach. She had to get out of here.

Her feet were loose from the bindings, she noticed, and the door wasn’t far away. She tried to use the heels of her boots to give her leverage as she scraped slowly across the floor.

With the first loud squeak, Chloe knew that option was out of the question. As if on cue, the door to the small room banged open and in entered the figure of a man dressed in black clothes and wearing a ski mask.

“Leaving so soon, Detective Decker?”

His voice was deep, rough, and calm – perhaps the most frightening combination of the three. There was no remorse to be found behind his words, no hesitation for his actions so far. Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat. “I would if you didn’t have me tied to this damn chair. What do you want from me?”

The man laughed, a malevolent and chilling sound given the circumstances. “I think you know.” He strode over to a side table and removed a fabric cover from over the tray, revealing more than one very sharp surgical knife and various tools. Picking up a particularly dangerous-looking scalpel, he tested the blade with a gloved thumb. Finding the sharpness satisfactory, he sighed and replaced it neatly next to the others. “I guess you could say I’m tying up some loose ends, Decker.” Then removing a small syringe from the tray, he began to pace once more.

He stepped in front of her, brandishing the needle with malicious intent. “Remember my old friend Malcolm?”

 

 

Olivia Monroe’s phone rang angrily from on top of the desk, disrupting the board meeting in progress. As the rest of the eyes in the room glanced impatiently at her, she checked the caller ID and found it was an unrecognized number. Against her better judgement, she waved off the meeting for a moment and stepped outside.

“This is Monroe.”

“Hello, Olivia,” a familiar accent purred on the other end.

“Mr. Morningstar, what can I do for you?” she replied.

“I need a favor, Miss Monroe. Chloe Decker is missing and I have reason to believe she’s in trouble.”

Monroe recognized the concern in his voice and strode with purpose over to her computer. Putting the phone on speaker, she sat down and began to access the terminal. “We put trackers in all of our squad cars so we can see where the vehicles are at all times. It shouldn’t take more than a minute to track it. I can send a squad to the location to check it out with you.” As a red blip appeared on the on-screen map, she relayed its coordinates to Lucifer. “3134 Evergreen. Support units are on the way, Mr. Morningstar.”

He thanked her briefly and started the Corvette, hoping to his Father that he wouldn’t be too late to help Chloe.


	12. Chapter 12

“Remember my old friend Malcolm?”

The detective knew she was in deep trouble.

“You see, we got very close towards the end of his undercover work for the police department. He was a great drinking buddy, someone you just wanted to sit down and play cards with or shoot the breeze over a glass of bourbon. I found friends in the department thanks to him. I thought I was finally settling into my niche.” He stopped pacing to stoop to her level, dangerously close to the incapacitated Detective. “That is, until you shot him.”

Pushing the plunger on the syringe, a small bead of liquid trickled out of the top. Chloe began to panic. _Think of something, damnit!_ “Don’t worry, Decker. It’ll all be over soon.”

She turned away as he began to point the needle at her neck. Suddenly remembering a lack of lower-body restraints, she lashed out at him with a sharp kick, landing a hard blow on his ribs and forcing him to drop the glass syringe which shattered safely on the floor.

The assailant moved back with a taunting laugh. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that, you bitch.”

With a flash of blinding rage, his fist collided with the side of her head, the metal of his ring cutting the skin on her forehead easily. She began to feel the blood trickle down the side of her face and the pain began to pulse and spread. But she was fully conscious and fighting – and that she could handle.

 

 

 

Lucifer spotted Chloe’s police cruiser from the road and hastily parked the car, his heart racing. Approaching the vehicle he could see that the driver’s side door was still open and the detective’s cell phone was lying nearby on the ground. Picking it up, he unlocked the device and was confronted with a photo of the tire tracks from the second crime scene that had recently been cleared from the very house they were now standing in front of. Very near to where he had found the phone was a small used needle that had once held some kind of clear liquid, presumably a sedative.

Chloe wouldn’t have given up without a fight.

He motioned to a baby-faced officer, who timidly approached him. “You there, beat cop. Do you have a report on the vehicle matching these tire treads from the second crime scene?”

The young man spoke something into his radio, shuffling away as he became more and more uncomfortable around the detective’s angry partner. As he paced the yard, he suddenly cocked his head and pointed hurriedly near the rear of Chloe’s cruiser. “You mean those, sir?”

Lucifer looked up with a start and strode with purpose towards the tracks the officer had spotted. Taking Chloe’s phone, he rotated the device until the treads were side-by-side with one another, the real and the photo. Looking back and forth, he realized that the two were made by the same kind of tire.

The young cop shuffled back over. “Dispatch says the width and thickness of the tread matches that of an old pickup truck. 1990 or earlier.”

The Devil nodded and recalled the Detective’s list of cars, and the name next to a particular 1993 Dodge pickup: Stephen Kelley.

“Track a blue Dodge pickup for me, would you officer? I think I know where our dear detective’s gone.”

 

 

 

The killer sighed wistfully and moved to the tray once more, producing a soft white gauze bandage. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I try not to mark any of them but sometimes my temper just gets the best of me.” He moved to place the bandage on her head and she flinched violently away.

“Don’t you dare touch me with that,” she spat.

He laughed once more, intimidating as ever. “What are you going to do about it?”

Chloe looked down at her holster to find it frighteningly empty. Now she was really out of options.

Suddenly a loud bang echoed from somewhere else in the building, and the murderer spun on his toes to face the sound. Turning back to face Chloe, he was now shaking with rage. “You brought backup, didn’t you? How did they find you, rat? HOW?” He was yelling now, and realized the volume of his voice as he lowered it to a harsh whisper.

“Don’t go anywhere, Detective. I’m not finished with you yet.”

He removed a flashlight from on a small desk nearby and exited the room, slipping through the swinging doors without a sound and down the hallway. Chloe took the opportunity to drag herself closer to the surgical tray – if she could just manage to get one of those knives off, she could try and cut herself free. Raising her leg and preparing to kick the table over, she was cut off by the sound of the room’s door opening again.

Turning to face her punisher again, she was met with the familiar sight of one sharply-dressed Lucifer Morningstar, right on time.

“Sorry I’m late,” he smiled.


	13. Chapter 13

Rushing to her side, he knelt down at her level. “Are you hurt, Detective?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just help me get out of this damn chair,” she pleaded.

Circling around to the back, Lucifer could see the rope encircling her hands. “My, we’re indeed in a bit of a bind here, aren’t we?”

She nearly kicked him. “Enough with the jokes, Lucifer. There’s a table right there with a bunch of sharp things on it. Take your pick, but just cut me out.”

“Ooh, right then. Someone’s impatient,” he muttered.

“If you were in this position, you would be too,” she threw back. “And why don’t you have a squad with you? I told you Lucifer, first rule of police work. Never go somewhere dangerous alone.”

“Well yes, that’s all well and good, but you should know by now that I’m much better at doing what I’m not supposed to do, Detective. And next time love, perhaps you should listen to your own advice. Now keep still so I can get these bloody ropes off before he comes back.”

He paused a beat. “And if you must know, every one of those officers drives exactly like you do, and I couldn’t wait around for them to get their donut-powered arses in gear.”

He fumbled with the knot for a few moments, digging carefully at the thick rope with the scalpel, before finally loosening it to the point where it would take no more than one cut to remove. Yet as if on cue, the dark figure returned, clapping slowly with mock approval. When he stepped into the light, the ski mask shrugged aside, the graying face of Steven Kelley stared back at them with a sinister grin.

“Well, isn’t this just predictable? The devilishly handsome partner come to save the day?” Kelley sneered. Lucifer rose from his crouch, shoulders squaring forward like a hunter squaring up its prey. “Oh, you have no idea how right you are,” he growled slowly.

His eyes flared bright red and Kelley paused to take in the full stature of the man standing in front of him. Kelley removed Chloe’s handgun from his waistband and waved it menacingly at the pair. “Ah,” he chided. “Now I wouldn’t do that if I were you. All the work I put in to get the dear Detective here? I won’t let you spoil it with your little rescue mission.”

Lucifer saw the safety was off on the pistol and under the warm incandescent lights, a shiny glow reflected off of the barrel - the weapon was real and very dangerous. He stole a side glance at Chloe, poignantly aware of his mortality around her.

If her eyes could speak, she would be pleading with him to be careful.

He took a step forward, rolling his neck with a menacing crack and a sigh.

“Very well then, insect. I’ll give you one more chance to make your decision.” Still pacing towards Kelley, eyes now blazing with rage, he offered his hands in casual comparison. “Option one – drop the gun and take your chances on laying low for a while. Or – well, it’s perhaps better if I show you option two.” And with that, the lights in the building exploded, turning the atmosphere dark and ominous, and Lucifer became a hellish mass of charred skin and muscle. Kelley fell, scrambling backwards to try and escape the vision but it was all too real; and now Chloe understood that it was all true.

He’d been telling the truth the whole time.

Her partner was the Devil.

The killer screamed and aimed his gun at Lucifer, and in the commotion three rapid gunshots were heard, echoing off the walls of the small room in deafening answer. As the backup generator began to hum and emergency lights filled the darkness, Steven Kelley lay in a pool of blood on the floor with three small caliber bullet wounds in his chest, and Chloe Decker yet again bore the smoking gun, retrieved from her boot thanks to Lucifer, who had loosened the restraints enough for her to break out.

Her partner quickly checked himself for bullet holes, and then turned to confront the Detective. On her face was painted a twisted mixture of fear and pain, and Lucifer’s heart sank in his chest. She blinked, tracking him cautiously with her head as he gently undid her restraints from the chair the rest of the way, freeing her and ensuring that the night was over. He had never seen her so scared, and realized, heart-wrenchingly, that it was because of him.

She stood, rubbing her wrists and ankles to try and recover some of the blood flow, and came face to face with her partner – the Devil – truly for the first time. He sighed sadly. “You’ve seen it all then, haven’t you?” He scoffed and turned away. “I would assume you probably want nothing more to do with me then. So I’ll just be on my way.” Before she could even react, he was halfway through the door. Quietly, he gave her a parting remark. “I’m glad you’re safe, Detective. Good night.”

And then he was gone.

Reinforcements arrived shortly afterwards, and came to take her official statement about the events that had taken place. Of course, she couldn’t very well describe her partner turning into the Devil himself right before her eyes, nor did she particularly know how to process the information herself. As she sat on the back bumper of the ambulance and medics tended to her small head wound, she could almost picture Lucifer there with her, making some snide comment about how red really was her color.


	14. Chapter 14

I don’t usually do this, and totally optional but -

RECOMMENDED SOUNDTRACK FOR THIS CHAPTER: “Waiting – Live from the Piano Bar" by Aquilo

 

 

 

The cold night air began to drift in, and a few drops of rain began to fall as Lucifer peered out on the city from his balcony. He gave a bitter smile and raised a glass skyward, a silent thank you for helping him protect the person he cared the most about.

The person that now assuredly wanted nothing to do with him.

“We can’t always have everything we want, can we now?” He sighed before turning to enter the penthouse again. “But thank you, Dad.”

A clap of booming thunder answered him in kind as he shut the glass doors and sealed himself in with his thoughts. Moving to replace the whiskey glass on the bar, Lucifer brushed his fingers across the top of his grand piano and decided that now was as good a time as any to calm himself with music.

Taking a seat at the bench, he began to tap out a somber melody he hadn’t played in years, the pattern returning to him like an old friend.

 

 

Chloe took a deep breath as the elevator doors slid open, and entered the penthouse without a sound. Lucifer was seated at the piano, guiding the keys as they sounded out a gentle melody that didn’t seem to fit him at all. Not wishing to disturb him and still partially in shock from what she’d seen, she slid behind the bar and dropped off her jacket, content to watch the scene at hand. After a few moments, her partner stopped playing to scribble down some notes on a piece of sheet music the detective hadn’t noticed before.

Gently she strode over to the bench and sat down next to him, only now noticing the small smile on his face. He’d known the whole time she was here.

“I’d convinced myself the last person you would want to see would be me, Detective. You really don’t quit, do you?” Reaching across the piano to where an untouched glass of whiskey rested, he offered it to her. “If you’re going to stay, you could probably use a drink – considering all that’s happened tonight,” he acknowledged quietly.

Moving to take it from him, her fingers brushed his lightly and lingered for a moment before encasing the polished glass. Taking a sip and finding it not much to her liking, she replaced it on the black lid of the instrument.

She shook her head in apparent disbelief. “You really are a mystery to me, Lucifer.”

He scoffed, turning to look at her squarely. “I should bloody well hope so. If you knew everything about me, you’d have run for the hills by now. Although frankly I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

Chloe crossed her arms. “You know what I mean. Ignoring your own personal safety to follow the clues to where I was, _stupidly_ taking on a brutal murderer by yourself to save me, and at the end of it all disappearing back here without a word as to _why_?” She softened her tone a bit, frustrations aside for the moment. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. But what are you hiding from?”

The question seemed to disarm her partner, as one of his usual quick retorts was nowhere to be found. As his brown eyes met her green ones, Chloe could swear she could see the moment his playboy appearance cracked and fell altogether. He swallowed a lump in his throat before beginning.

“You don’t know how much I care for you, Chloe.”

The sound of her first name out of his mouth made her heart skip a beat. She felt like she was witnessing a side of him she never had before - like she could see him in pieces, shards of him laying everywhere, and a part of her ached to put them back together again.

“I’m afraid because I don’t know how to deal with these feelings. Human emotions are bloody inconvenient,” he sighed, picking up the glass and taking a long swig. “When I saw you in that room with him, all I wanted was to tear anyone that hurt you to pieces. I tried my best to hide the monster that I am, but it’s come out now and –“. He paused. “I saw the look on your face, Chloe. You were _afraid_ of me and that’s the very last thing I wanted to happen. And the worst part is, I know that this - whatever it is - could never work out.” He scoffed. “It’s the ultimate irony, really. The Hell I left was nothing compared to this one. The worst kind of punishment is living an immortal life without someone like you. And now I’ve gone and ruined it all because I couldn’t hold my temper.”

Tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes, but Chloe couldn’t seem to form a coherent response. Lucifer was an irritable smart-ass who was in fact wholly and truly the Devil. Yet she’d frankly come to think of him as more than just a friend and partner, and for the man who continued to wall himself in to sit here and pour out his emotions was overwhelming.  Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky as she fought through the burning coal in the back of her throat to speak.

“I’m not afraid of you, Lucifer,” she started. “Look, I don’t understand most of this, but I know you. You wouldn’t hurt me, and you’re not a monster. You’re a good man who managed to get a bad reputation. And good people deserve second chances.”

The look in his eyes was one of sadness, rather than the joy she’d expected. He shook his head solemnly, staring at his feet in an uncharacteristic display of shame. “The Devil doesn’t get a second chance, Chloe. It just doesn’t work that way.”

He kept his head down, because for once he was afraid – afraid of what she would say, afraid of rejection, and afraid of losing her more than anything else.

She gently placed her fingers under his chin and raised his eyes to meet hers, pulling him out of the shell he had begun to sink into again. “I’m willing to help you find it, okay? Just trust me on this one.”

And he smiled, a deep grin that reached his eyes, warm and truly happy for the first time. He cautiously wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a caring embrace. She shifted to lean against his side, a contented sigh escaping from both of them as words unspoken passed from one to the other.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve someone like you,” he murmured, a low rumble in his chest that made her heart sing. “I can’t thank you enough, Chloe.”

She responded in kind by nestling further into his arms, her head now over his heart. “This seems like a good place to start,” she whispered.

He placed his chin on the top of her head, content to hold her tight for as long as the universe would let him, and wondering what changes were to come in his life because of that night. He decided wholeheartedly that he couldn’t give a damn: the only thing that mattered was here and now, the two of them together with her safe and close.

Never had anyone wanted him for more than his favors - power, wealth, pleasure, fame; but she trusted him and that was all he needed. She gave him hope that maybe one day things could be different, that even the worst sinner could find his redemption. He found himself trying to separate the fear he felt in that with the joy that stemmed from being around her – love, an emotion he’d never experienced before quite like this.

Looking down at Chloe fast asleep in his arms, he decided that he well and truly did love her.

 

And somewhere up above, a Father began to smile down on his son.


	15. Chapter 15

A Note from the Author:

Thank you guys so much for reading through this. It’s my first really full-length story (more than a one-shot, anyway) so it took a bit longer than I thought it would. I hope it was worth the read and if it was please feel free to let me know by leaving a comment down below (or on my Tumblr, if you’re about that – I’m _outdun_ on there.)

As a thank you, I’d like to recommend some of the tracks that inspired me to write some of my Deckerstar fics, in the hopes that they’ll help you do the same. (Or at the very least, you’ll like them.)

 

_“I Found” by Amber Run (both the normal and acoustic versions of this are phenomenal)_

_“You There”, “Silhouette”, and “Waiting – Live from the Piano Bar” by Aquilo (the last one is my personal favorite)_

_“Oblivion” by Bastille_

_"Not About Angels" by Birdy_

_"Lawless" by Colours_

_"Devil Side" by Foxes_

_"You" by Keaton Henson_

_"Heal" by Tom Odell_

_“Foreigner’s God” and “Cherry Wine” by Hozier, and finally:_

_“I’ll Be Good” by Jaymes Young_

 

Thanks again! I’ve got more Lucifer stuff in the works for this summer to help pass the hiatus, so stay tuned.

-tfa2141

 

(Updated for clarity of reading on 5/29)


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